


Things We Never

by basilanddill



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Doctor!Merlin, M/M, best friends but want more, characters in mid-twenties, horrible at communicating with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4442264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basilanddill/pseuds/basilanddill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin AU.  Arthur and Merlin met in grade school and have been best friends ever since.  But what if Merlin's never thought of Arthur as only his best friend?  Merlin thought that his crush on Arthur would have disappeared by the end of high school, definitely by the end of uni, but Merlin realised sometime during those years that what he felt was no longer a mere crush.  Merlin has resigned himself to the fact that they will never be anything more but he can't help the flicker of longing that pulls at him sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Things We Never Say

On a lazy corner sat a cozy coffeehouse, where the colours were as soft as the morning light, the whirring of the espresso machine became the comfortable backdrop to conversations and the rich scent of the freshly ground coffee sent a zing through the early morning haze. It was Sunday morning and in Merlin’s opinion it was the best time of the week to frequent a coffeehouse. It was early enough that the place wasn’t crawling with caffeine-deprived zombies: only the early risers, all-nighters and city crawlers wandered through to get their cup of choice.

I guess Merlin saw himself as fitting the all-of-the-above and yet none-of-the-above categories. His shift at the hospital finished early on Sunday mornings and he was always so high on the adrenaline and the fast-pace of it all that he found himself wandering over to the coffeehouse around the corner.

He’d order himself some tea and sit in front of the window and watch the city wake up as he slowed down enough to go home and slip in a few hours of sleep. It was quiet, save for a few commonplace noises, and Merlin let the welcomed warmth of the tea seep through his body and relax all the knots in his muscles – in his thoughts.

Merlin discovered that knots were a common ailment of his, or at least since Arthur started keeping him company on these early mornings. If Merlin was being truthful with himself the knots might have always been there, where Arthur was concerned anyway.

Merlin had been friends with Arthur since grade school when they got partnered together for biology dissection laboratories. Merlin hadn’t minded the whole blood and tissue of it all but the smell of the cocktail of preservatives the creatures were marinated in tickled his gag reflex. Arthur must have noticed because on the second day of dissections he put a pack of peppermint gum on Merlin’s desk and said, “Try not to snap bubbles as the teacher walks by.”

It was an unlikely friendship. Arthur was loud and was always surrounded by a crowd of friends who were even louder. Merlin, although he had his friends, enjoyed quiet moments where he could get lost in the emotions the characters he was reading about were feeling. In those quiet moments, as he rested an open book in his lap and he peered past the black words on a white page, he felt invisible in the best possible way. The book swallowed him and the words, strung along like beads on a necklace, carried him to a different time – a different place.

It was the purest form of escape that Merlin knew. He traveled and yet he had no passport. He saw castles and yet he sent no postcards. He dueled with shades, elves and warlocks and yet he was still alive.

Somehow, the two of them just worked.

It wasn’t long before Arthur started bringing Merlin to his lunch table after dissections. There Merlin met friendly Gwen, flirtatious Gwaine, sarcastic Morgana and affable Leon. They made him feel like he’d been coming to their table for years. Gwaine winked, Morgana jabbed, Gwen reassured and Leon chuckled. They pulled laughs out of Merlin, held his attention between their eager hands and made Merlin proficient at eye rolls – especially when a group of girls would walk by their table and Gwaine would start in with a round of winking so fierce that the girls all probably believed that he’d stuck a handful of sand into his eye beforehand.

They were great – more than great. It was as if someone had collected all the best secondary characters from books and stuck them at one lunch table. Even still, Arthur stole his thoughts and his focus like no secondary character ever could.

No, Arthur was definitely not a secondary character.

He didn’t know what it was about Arthur that made his mind swing in so many different directions but the ropes of his thoughts were a tangled mess. But even in this mess the ropes twisted and bent to spell out words, words he did not want to acknowledge. These words pushed and prodded his thoughts everyday and yet even as he saw them spelled out in front of him, he swirled his fingers through the ropes until the words were eaten up by the chaos.

He didn’t want to see those words because they spoke of possibilities. They spoke of dreams and longing. They spoke of _im_ possibilities.

Because Arthur was his best friend – his best friend of almost twelve years. Twelve years. Twelve years of borrowed lunches, copied homework and crinkled smiles. Twelve years of shared memories and moments and heartaches. He’d spent almost half his life being best friends with Arthur.

He’d spent almost half his life being in love with his best friend.

But after twelve years how was a person supposed to bring that up? It was like being introduced to someone hastily and only twelve years later asking for their name.

It was impossible.

Merlin was in no way trying to be melodramatic. He didn’t carry a perfect picture of Arthur in his wallet and pull it out every night to stroke his face and sigh his name. He was resigned to reality and reality said that he’d missed his chance, if he even had one to begin with.

His feelings for Arthur slept on the floor of his heart, pulled down by the gravity of all the years. They were only disturbed on days where a particular stab of longing hugged Merlin or a stubborn loneliness settled in beside him.

“Merlin?”

“Merlin?”

Merlin snapped out of his mind and looked across at Arthur. Arthur held his mug of coffee between both hands and looked curiously over at Merlin.

“Where did you go? You were a million miles away,” Arthur said softly. It was the gentle part of the morning – one where it felt crass to speak in normal tones, as if the sun would get startled and hide back into the pocket of the earth.

Merlin smiled lightly. He looked out the window to the street in front of them. “I was trying to guess at what the woman in the green coat was looking for in her purse.”

Arthur followed Merlin’s gaze to the woman standing on the sidewalk who was searching through her purse. Merlin thought that he saw a flash of sadness pass over Arthur’s face but he figured he must have imagined it. Merlin knew no reason for Arthur to be sad.

They both watched the woman with their curiosities piqued.

“Bet she’s looking for her lipstick,” Arthur ventured.

“Nah, she’s looking for her wallet to buy a newspaper,” Merlin countered.

“Loser buys next Sunday’s order?” Arthur asked.

“You’re on.”

They watched the woman with invested interest. Her searching hands stilled and they both leaned forward eagerly.

She pulled out a small banana.

They leaned back in their chairs and chuckled to themselves. These were the moments that Merlin enjoyed the most from their Sunday mornings. The shared companionship of watching others wake up and start their day. It almost made up for the fact that they weren’t waking up together.

“Well I still think that you should be the one to buy my coffee next week,” Arthur said before he took a sip of his coffee.

Merlin snorted. “Oh yeah? How do you figure?”

“Well, the banana looked more like a tube of lipstick than a wallet.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said in complete seriousness, “they make banana shaped phones, who’s to say that someone out there hasn’t made a banana shaped wallet yet?”

Arthur closed his eyes and laughed into his mug. Merlin watched the smile he’d seen a thousand times before take shape on Arthur’s face. He heard the familiar sound of Arthur’s laugh fill the space between them. He was still looking at Arthur when Arthur opened his eyes. Arthur looked at him warmly and Merlin had to look away before the ropes of his thoughts reformed the words he worked so hard to keep scattered.

He wasn’t going to think them. He didn’t want to say them. He would sit on the words and hope that he either squished them or Arthur would notice that Merlin was sitting a little higher up than he was supposed to be. He would sit on them until they flattened and he couldn’t feel them anymore or until Arthur would take his hand, pull him to his feet and see the secret that Merlin had been trying so hard to hide.


	2. Things We Never Hear

She pulled a tiny banana out of her purse.

Really, it was the tiniest banana he’d ever seen. It was probably one of those extremely overpriced organic bananas that he saw people fawning over as he passed by on his way over to where the regularly priced _ordinary_ bananas were being shunned. If Arthur hadn’t been focused on the woman’s searching hand he would have thought she’d pulled out a chubby, yellow highlighter.

He pushed himself away from the bar until his back was once more resting against the backrest of the barstool. His back rubbed a little against a wooden ring in the backrest as he laughed. From beside him, Arthur heard Merlin echo the laugh but when Arthur glanced over at him he’d already lost him. He’d lost Merlin to whatever thought was building inside him, to that place he always managed to wander away to. It wasn’t a physical distance but it may as well have been. Arthur scrambled to drop words in Merlin’s path before Merlin drifted too deep and out of his reach.

“Well I still think that you should be the one to buy my coffee next week,” he said and took a sip of his coffee to add some nonchalance to that blurted statement. He watched Merlin covertly over the rim of his mug. He watched the words draw Merlin back to the coffeehouse. Back to where he was sitting beside Arthur.

He watched the amusement get chased over Merlin’s face by sarcasm. Sarcasm won and Merlin let out a snort.

“Oh yeah? How do you figure?” Merlin asked as he looked over at Arthur with slightly raised eyebrows.

Well a hastily constructed, blurted statement deserved a hastily constructed, blurted comeback.

“Well, the banana looked more like a tube of lipstick than a wallet.” What Arthur didn’t add was that it really had looked like anything _but_ a banana.

Arthur wasn’t expecting Merlin to lean his head closer to him. It made his thoughts fluttery and his breath foolishly weak. His own reaction made Arthur want to hit his head repeatedly against the wall because after more than a decade of friendship Arthur figured he would have outgrown all this irrationality. Or at least become habituated to them to the point where he no longer noticed them. He swallowed back the movie scene his stupid mind was showing in his head, of what would happen if Merlin decided to lean in a little closer and if Arthur reciprocated the motion.

Merlin looked at him seriously and for one horrifying moment Arthur thought that maybe Merlin had peered into his eyes hard enough to see scenes from the movie. Arthur picked up his mug and brought it to his mouth in an effort to hide his face.

“Arthur,” Merlin said without looking away from him, “they make banana shaped phones, who’s to say that someone out there hasn’t made a banana shaped wallet yet?”

Arthur blinked once and felt relieved and sad at the same time.

He blinked twice and his mind caught up with what Merlin had just said and he couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him. His laugh hit the hot coffee in his mug and the steam shot up and moistened his face. His back dug into that uncomfortable part in the chair but he didn’t mind. The space between them was easy, almost twelve years of easy, and the feeling flowed between them like honey on a hot day.

Arthur glanced up and he saw Merlin looking at him with softened eyes. His heart spasmed with traitorous hope.

But then Merlin looked away. 

Sometimes Arthur wondered if there was an equal sign in the equation of their friendship, their relationship, _whatever the hell this was,_ or if it was more of a double-tilde. Arthur felt like sometimes there was more feeling on his side but it was just so damn hard to tell with Merlin living inside his head. Sometimes Arthur wanted to step inside Merlin’s mind and observe how everything spun and all the thoughts that were written in the folds and grooves of his brain – things he didn’t let himself say. He wanted to follow connections and see where they led, but most of all, he wanted to see if maybe any of them led to him.

That thought alone scared him.

It scared him because what if none of the sparks of thought led to him? What if his face was just something that flickered for a ghost of a second before it vanished? What if he chased spark after spark, leapt over neuron after neuron, only to find himself nowhere? And if he got lost in the canyons and webs of thought that showed only the truth – the unavoidable, heart-squeezing truth – would he be able to see it every day and not go mad?  

No, Arthur decided, he didn’t want to peek inside Merlin’s head because the truth bore too much weight. It had the potential to crush him and then Merlin wouldn’t be _his_ rock, Merlin would just be yet another rock that came and knocked him down.

Life didn’t guarantee a happy ending – he knew that and he thought Merlin might too – and yet it happened sometimes, didn’t it? Why couldn’t it be them?

There were some days where Arthur just couldn’t control the way his mind picked at the little area of his brain that he closed off. An area that was filled with an annoying amount of Merlin. He peered over at Merlin from the corner of his eye and he saw the tired slump of Merlin’s shoulders, the iron weight of his eyelids and the slightly darker shadows under his eyes. He wanted to brush his fingers against the colour to see if he could wipe it away. Merlin worked so hard and he studied an insane amount to become a good doctor. Arthur was enormously proud of him but sometimes he worried about just how hard Merlin pushed himself. Merlin barely had a day off but when he did Arthur made it his mission to drag Merlin out with the crew so that they wouldn’t forget each other’s faces.

Sometimes in the late hours of the day – on the odd day that both of them weren’t working and neither of them had the energy to go out – they sat in Merlin’s kitchen. The sun would be going down and the golden rays would dance along the soft yellow walls; the deep reds and fiery oranges of the sunset would swirl around the kitchen and hug them both. They were beautiful colours; colours that tugged at that ball of longing at the corner of your heart and made you want to say things that you know you shouldn’t.

When they sat there – Merlin reading up on new studies in medical journals and Arthur catching up on paperwork – Arthur wondered, from the way Merlin would look up for a moment and his eyes would soften, if he felt it too; but, then he’d look back down at the article in his hands and Arthur would be left all alone with the colours.

Sometimes when he sat there he’d look over the top of his paperwork and study Merlin. Merlin was always the first with a joke and his eyes crinkled so much when he laughed that they were like little upside-down U-shaped slits. No matter how many hours he worked, how many back to back shift he took to cover for sick friends, he always claimed to have energy left over.

And yet Arthur wasn’t convinced.

Merlin’s smile was just an inch too wide, his laugh a heartbeat too long. Sometimes when he’d turn away, or all the others were laughing over whatever shenanigan Gwaine managed to find himself in, Merlin’s smile would slip. It came and went so fast that most times Arthur wondered if he’d imagined the entire thing.

The others – Gwen, Gwaine, Leon and the lot – didn’t seem to notice, but then again they probably didn’t watch Merlin as much as he did. It was bordering on hilarious just how many times his eyes traced a path to Merlin – a path well-defined, with trampled grass and a clear border. Arthur wondered if Merlin noticed but he knew he was just deluding himself with that line of thinking.

Of course he noticed.

Merlin never once brought it up; whenever he caught him looking he only smiled at Arthur and looked away.

He always looked away.

There were times when Arthur was tempted to just tell Merlin everything just to see how he would react. He had the whole thing planned out in his head and he replayed it so often that he’d almost convinced himself it’d happened.

“Do you have to go into the office today?” Merlin, the real Merlin and not the one that ran wild in Arthur’s brain, was looking at him questioningly.

Arthur thought about it for a second. “I don’t think I do. Maybe for a couple hours in the morning just to make sure that there aren’t any new documents on my desk, but other than that, not really.” Arthur quirked a brow. “Why?” He took a sip of the coffee that was slowly starting to lose its heat.

Merlin shrugged. “I wanted to maybe catch that new movie that came out a couple weeks ago. Want to come with?”

Arthur tried to think of which movie Merlin could be referring to. “Is it the comedy about the flying deodorant or the documentary about ostriches?”

“I was thinking of the rom-com about the woman who got hypnotised and fell in love with her garden gnome.”

“Is that the one with Tom Cruise?” Arthur asked.

Merlin smiled. “No, I think you’re thinking of Mission Definitely Possible where Tom gets attacked by an army of garden gnomes.”

“Oh, right right. I know the one you’re talking about,” Arthur said. “Do you want to catch an afternoon showing?”

“Sounds good,” Merlin said and Arthur knew he was trying not to laugh. This was their thing. They would bring each other to the worst movies made, movies that were so bad that you really had to wonder at who was stupid enough to cough up the money to produce them. They’d watch them and try not to get kicked out of the theatre for laughing too hard. They’d try to one-up the other by finding a movie that was even worse than the last. It was Merlin’s turn this time.

“I’ll check the show times,” Merlin said, “and I’ll text you what time I’ll come to pick you up.”

Arthur nodded and if his mind was going to pretend that this was a date then he was even more deluded and stupid than he’d originally thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Things We Never Imagine

Arthur and Merlin watched in disbelief as the actress got a custom suit made for the garden gnome and escorted it to some fancy Italian restaurant. Candles and everything. Their incredulity slid down the edges of their worn seats and they met in a darkened corner of the room where they laughed and pointed at the screen.

Merlin was desperately trying not to laugh. He was putting every iota of self control to the test. He felt like a soda can that had been shaken too long and then left out in the sun. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the dozen or so other people in the theatre were laughing at the crazy mess that was happening on-screen, but they were strangely silent. It was almost as if they _cared_ what was going to happen next. Didn’t they realize that at any moment the, ahhhm, leading male actor could take a tumble off his fancy chair? Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall... _end of movie._ The thought made Merlin want to giggle even more.

Merlin glanced at Arthur from the corner of his eyes and noticed, with some satisfaction, that Arthur had his lips pressed together so hard that they were almost colourless. The flashes of light from the screen played along the angles of Arthur’s face and made his eyes sparkle with a hungry light. Those eyes widened and Merlin turned his attention back to the screen just in time to see the actress lean forward over the table.

Merlin couldn’t quite comprehend what he was seeing.

From beside Merlin, Arthur tried to suck in a breath and exhale at the same time and ended up snorting loudly through the silent theatre. Arthur’s hand instinctively flew up to his mouth but the damage was done. Arthur opened the soda can and Merlin howled from laughter. Merlin stuck both hands in front of his face in hopes that it would muffle at least some of the sound. It was incredibly contagious and soon both of them were sliding down in their seats trying to find the equation needed to convert their choking giggles to silent laughter.

Merlin felt Arthur lean his head towards him.

“Shit, Merlin,” Arthur said and Merlin felt Arthur’s breath bounce off his cheek, still shaky from laughter, “she just made out with something that _normal_ people stick into their backyard.”

The woman who sat in front of them turned and glared at both of them and if looks could have killed they would have both been ash on the floor. _Clean-up in theatre 3: the one showing a movie with the most moronic plot thus far known to man._

When the woman turned back around Arthur’s hand flashed out and grabbed Merlin’s forearm. Merlin felt the tiny tremors that ran along Arthur’s fingers, tremors that translated into an eyebrow raise. It was probably something along the lines of, ‘ _holy crap, she actually likes this movie!’._ Merlin sucked his cheeks in hard and hoped that it would prevent his mouth from opening to let out a sound. Merlin turned his head to look at Arthur and he met Arthur’s gaze. The light reflected off the excess moisture in Arthur’s eyes and the wetness on his cheek. He took one look at Merlin with his sucked in cheeks and threw his head back in a silent exhalation of air.

“You look like a goldfish,” Arthur whispered when his head came back down.

Merlin swallowed down the laugh and his stomach felt full with all the pointy exclamation marks. At the same time, he couldn’t help but notice that Arthur’s hand was still on his arm. He closed his eyes and the actress, who was now fondling the gnome’s beard, disappeared.

In his mind he was a wizard and he used his wand to draw three little words in the air and then with a gust of breath he sent them swimming through the air towards Arthur. He was a Greek god with the power and confidence to slide his arm up until their two hands molded together. He was a warrior who threw his sword tiredly to the ground in favour of reaching his calloused hands to Arthur’s face. He was an angel who decided to fall because he’d rather live beside the man he loved than above him.

The feelings stirred inside him and what started off as a small breeze turned into a tornado. It pulled all the feelings that were sitting on the sidelines into the funnel and it jumbled his thoughts. The ratio was off. There were too many feelings like courage and rashness and not enough wariness and anxiousness.

It was a dangerous vortex that blew through his mind and pulled each laminated sentence apart word by word. It flung the unneeded words like ‘can’t’ and ‘won’t’ out through his ears. Words were flying around in circles, orbiting his brain, and they felt strange because they were unattached. The words were free to join friends that they’d barely seen in twelve years, friends they’d only visited at night as their owner dreamed.

The words hugged and joined hands and their owner sat there in the darkened movie theatre in a strange state because he wasn’t sure what was going on inside him. He wasn’t sure why all of a sudden he felt like impossible things could come true. All he knew was that there was something jumping on his heart and an emotion sitting on his tongue and it tasted strangely like impulsiveness.

His mind convinced his nerves to move his arm but his muscles overpowered them both and his arm went rigid. His nerves may have been easily swayed but his muscles were veterans in the game. His muscles, the last checkpoint, asked his brain if it was sure. The newly reunited words jumped up and down as they hugged each other and the muscles relented.

A moment before, another pair of muscles contracted.

Arthur pulled his hand away just as Merlin pulled his arm up and turned his palm over. The cold weight of truth landed in Merlin’s vulnerable, upturned palm. His fingers curled into a fist and he caught some of the truth so next time he could remind himself what unguarded hope felt like.

He opened and closed his fist to brush off the movement. “Muscle cramp,” he said when he felt Arthur watching him. He glanced over at Arthur. Tiny bursts of light from the screen illuminated the blue eyes that were trained on him. The expression in Arthur’s eyes changed as he looked at Merlin and Merlin whipped his head back to look at the screen. Merlin didn’t know which emotion he forgot to wipe off his face before he looked at Arthur.

He never allowed himself to maintain that ribbon of connection. It was easy to look into Arthur’s warm and gentle eyes and convince himself of things that weren’t there. He didn’t want to give his brain tampered with evidence to stockpile; evidence that would foolishly try to convince Merlin that Arthur’s glances were more than just a sensory organ sliding through vitreous fluid.

Merlin felt Arthur shift closer. “You win, this movie is definitely worse than the one we went to last time about the detective who was able to solve crimes using a psychic cucumber.” Merlin watched the actress slide her foot along the gnome’s four inch leg. “Do you want to duck out of here?” Arthur asked after a moment.

Merlin slanted a look at Arthur. Arthur was smiling but there was something off about it, something forced.

“Yeah, okay.”

They got up from their seats and crouched down as they walked over to the end of their row. They followed the tiny lights down the steps and out the auditorium.

“Oh you always know the perfect thing to say,” Merlin heard the actress croon as the door swung closed behind them. Merlin blinked a little, his eyes unaccustomed to the light, as they slowly walked towards the exit.

“I really hope they paid that actress a lot,” Arthur said as he pushed the doors open and they found themselves outside. “Considering all the mortifying crap they made her do.”

Merlin sniggered as he silently agreed. “You couldn’t pay me enough to have a make out session with a two foot tall, rosy-cheeked, bespectacled garden gnome.”

Arthur smiled but there was something missing. “What if he wasn’t wearing glasses?” Arthur asked before Merlin could figure out just what was missing.

“Well in that case pucker up Mr. Gnome.”

Arthur laughed lightly and Merlin joined in. They were best friends and Merlin told himself that that was enough. He wasn’t a wizard, a Greek god, a warrior or a fallen angel; he was just a man named Merlin. Maybe he was being selfish by wanting to turn their friendship into something more, something that both parties weren’t in agreement with. Merlin told himself that if he would just stop comparing every boyfriend he ever had to Arthur then maybe one day he would be able to look at Arthur with just friendship on his mind.

They walked through the parking lot toward Merlin’s beat up Toyota but Merlin didn’t really feel like going home yet. He pulled out his keys and fiddled around with it in his hands. He saw Arthur eye the path across the street that ran next to the river.

“Want to take a walk?” Arthur asked as he nodded towards the path with his head.

Merlin could almost feel the inviting breeze coming off the water. He tucked his keys back into his jean pocket and they headed towards the path. They passed an upturned garbage can in the parking lot and the wind caught on some of the balls of paper and blew them in various directions.

Merlin looked at the little balls of paper and had a thought. Maybe we were all little pieces of crumpled up paper and we were all waiting for that one person who would pick us up and gently smooth out our sharpened corners. But Merlin was scared that Arthur would accidentally cut himself on his corners. Arthur ate light and light shone from his pores while sometimes all Merlin had left in his lunchbox was dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one's from Arthur's pov again.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	4. Things We Never Revealed

Arthur swallowed down the salty air that the breeze swept off the water. He could almost taste the brine of the rolling waves on his tongue. The wind ruffled their hair and played with the folds of their jackets and dusted them both with an imperceptible layer of salt. Arthur wondered at how Merlin’s hair remained as raven as ever.

There were usually more people about; more children chasing each other, weaving through legs and around skirts. It was a place where happiness came to dine. In the travelling huts set up along the path beside the water a person could get lost in the colours, smells, textures. There was a hut that propped up every year at the end of May, just as the sun started to unfurl from its slumber. The breeze would swirl through the hut; it entered with salt and left marinated and bathed. It was a ghost of that same breeze that brought Arthur in so many years ago.

The first time he’d stepped foot inside the darkened hut he had to momentarily close his eyes because his sense of smell demanded to be heard. The scents danced with each other along the current of air and the cloud surrounded Arthur. When he opened his eyes he found that there were dozens, scores and grosses of glass jars resting on tall wooden racks along the walls of the hut. He peered through the shadows of the hut but his eyes were still blinded by the sudden darkness. Save for the kerosene lanterns that hung from the ceiling on hooks and the light that managed to squeeze beside the flap of fabric at the entrance, the hut was cloaked.

He wandered over to one side of the hut and studied the glass jars. The labels were in Latin, written with a flourished hand. Underneath the Latin, almost as an afterthought, the same hand had written the English name in brackets. Some of the spices were known to Arthur but most were not. He wondered what Sumac and Pasilla de Oacaca Chile were used for.

He reached his hand toward a glass jar containing finely crushed grey-green leaves. He’d twisted the top of the jar in his palm when he felt a shift in the air.

“What you want with Marjoram?”

Arthur nearly dropped the jar when the voice came up behind him. He turned around and came face to face with a woman. The woman threw her head back and her deep laughter thrummed through the hut like a strummed cello. The shine of her long, wavy hair caught the eyes of the lantern and it shone a dark copper, almost black in colour. It matched her laugh perfectly. As did the blood red shawl she had wrapped around herself.  

Her laugh winded down and she brought her gaze over to Arthur. She clucked her tongue at Arthur. “You scare too easy. You no need Marjoram, you need _Symphytum officinale._ ”

Arthur looked at her blankly.

The woman’s mouth teased her laugh lines. “Knitbone. So you fix your backbone.” She chuckled at her own joke.

Arthur laughed too. He’d never imagined he would one day be teased by someone using Latin.

“Ahh good, you smile. Your humors are in balance.” The woman looked Arthur over with a critical eye.

“I’d be pretty disappointed if they weren’t; I calibrated them this morning,” Arthur joked.

The woman snorted but the side of her mouth pulled upwards. “Maybe too much blood, not enough black bile.”

Well, there wasn’t too much Arthur could really say to that. From the way the woman’s eyes shone he knew she’d tucked another joke in there somewhere but he wasn’t fluent in Hippocrates humoral theory. He made a mental note to ask Merlin next time he saw him.

“What you look for?” asked the woman as Arthur struggled to fit the top back onto the jar. She swatted his hand away and took the jar from his grasp. With a practised hand she twisted the top onto the jar and held the marjoram between her two hands. Her eyes waited for an answer.

“Honestly,” Arthur started somewhat sheepishly, “I was passing by outside when I smelled your spices and decided to come in.”

The woman nodded. “Is clever man who follows senses. Is good to shut ears to brain sometimes.”

Arthur thought of Merlin. He wished he could shut his brain off sometimes. Maybe then, without the whirlwind of voices in his mind, he would finally grasp Merlin’s shirt and pull him close enough to tell him. Or at least with his brain taking a break he’d forget that he was dumb enough to fall for someone who was so clearly not interested. Maybe the woman had a spice for hopeless idiot?

The woman was studying him with an unnervingly keen eye when Arthur surfaced from his wanderings. She stuck a hand to her chest. “I, Selvena. You?”

“Arthur.”

“Arthur,” she repeated, her accent added a touch of mystique to his name. “Name of kings. Great power in names.”

Arthur laughed. “Nope, not a king, just a broke university student. Plus I don’t know about power; a friend of mine once told me that responsibility tends to tag along for the ride too.”

Selvena smiled. “Peter Parker and you friends?”

Arthur balked.

“I have granddaughter.”

Arthur laughed because _of course_ the mystical woman knew who Spiderman was. Her laugh harmonized with his.

She brushed by Arthur to place the jar back onto the shelf. When she turned around her fingers accidentally grazed the back of Arthur’s hand. He turned to face her and was about to ask about the hut when he noticed her look. Selvena was looking at him with an intensity that made him want to squirm.

“You missing something.” It wasn’t a question.

Arthur reflexively patted his jeans for his wallet. He felt the familiar outline in his back pocket.

The woman tutted and shook her head. “Not here,” she said and she waved her hands in the air, “in here.” She thumped her hand over her chest.

Was she trying to tell him that he was missing an organ? Because he was pretty sure that his twenty four years of doctor checkups would have revealed that at some point.

“You found missing piece but you no do nothing.”

Oh.

So she wasn’t talking about a piece of tissue.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. He wondered how Merlin hadn’t been able to figure it out if this woman could in a handful of minutes.

“You no need to talk, just think, yes?”

Arthur smiled at the woman. If only she knew; thinking was all he did.

Selvena walked over to the other side of the hut. She ran her hands over some of the jars before she pulled one down. While Arthur stood there reeling over what she had said, Selvena scooped some of the contents into a small plastic bag. She tucked the jar back onto the shelf and walked back to Arthur. She tied the ends of the bag with a red ribbon and she gave it to Arthur.

“Chamomile,” she explained. “Help you sleep.”

Arthur looked at her quizzically. He wondered how she knew that he was having trouble sleeping the past few weeks. His father was pushing him to join his company but Arthur wanted to continue on for graduate studies. It landed him sleepless nights and a fairly lethal attitude in the mornings.

He was a little skeptical about the herb’s efficacy but he wasn’t about to point that out. He pulled his wallet out from his back pocket and went to open it when Selvena’s hand covered his.

“No money,” she said. Her mouth pulled into a small smile. “You no king.”

Arthur shook his head. The place wasn’t exactly bustling with people. Selvena gave Arthur’s hand a small squeeze before he could open his mouth to protest.

“You come back next year.”

The sharp ringing of a bicycle bell brought him sharply back to the present. He reflexively stepped to the side.

Right into Merlin.

Merlin stumbled a little and Arthur’s hand flashed out but Merlin righted himself before Arthur had to intervene. Merlin looked at Arthur sidelong with just the barest of smiles.

“It’s too cold to go swimming today,” he said.

Arthur smiled back and they carried on in silence. After a friendship that spanned as many years as theirs did, they did not feel the necessity to fill every silence with words. They exchanged thoughts and laughs and pencils but silence too. It was a silence of familiarity, of companionship; it was a silence of knowing that even though they were both lost in their own thoughts, at any given time one of them could turn and insert vowels and consonants into the space between them.

This was markedly not one of those silences.

No, this was a silence conceived by doubt and awkwardness. It walked between them, pushed them farther apart and shot furtive glances at each of them. It was a silence so corporeal that it almost felt palpable.

In that moment Arthur wished he could travel back in time to the moment where he thought that it was a good idea to let his hand linger on Merlin’s arm. The moment, inspired by the darkness of the theatre and the shared hilarity of the asinine movie, revealed what Arthur had always known to be true. If Merlin felt even an iota of what he felt then he would have done something when Arthur had so blatantly left his hand on Merlin’s arm. He could still feel the throbbing of his heart in his mouth, the way it had mixed with the ashy taste of truth.

“Arthur!”

He looked over at the call of his name and he couldn’t help the grin. Selvena was standing by the flap of her hut, her hair twisted into different shapes as the breeze caught it. He walked over to her hut with a confused Merlin in tow. When he was standing in front of her, smiling at her, she pulled him into a hug. He never knew what she would smell like. Each year he visited it was something different. This time he recognized the sweet scent of basil.

“You came early this year,” Arthur said when they pulled back from each other.

She shrugged. “Weather was good.” She eyed Merlin curiously. “You no manners, Arthur?”

“Oh, right,” he turned to Merlin who was smiling politely but was obviously puzzled. “This is my friend Merlin,” he said to Selvena, “and Merlin, this is Selvena.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Merlin said.

“Happy meeting you,” Selvena replied with a smile. She shot Arthur an amused look.

“He no Peter Parker.”

Arthur paused and then remembered. He laughed and Selvena’s smile grew. Merlin looked at the two of them in utter confusion.

“No, I guess he’s not,” Arthur said, still smiling to himself.

“Well? Come in, come in.” Selvena thrust the flap of fabric aside with a snap and disappeared into the hut. Arthur went to follow and Merlin stepped in close beside him.

“You told her I was Spiderman?” asked Merlin in an incredulous whisper.

Arthur snickered. He was happy that they could forget about the movie incident for a little while. “It’s a long story,” he said as he pushed the fabric aside and let Merlin go in first. He heard Merlin’s slow exhale as he stepped into the room. Merlin’s eyes crawled over the shelves and shelves of herbs and spices.

“I know,” Arthur said in reply to Merlin’s wordless exclamation.

“How do you know about this place?” Merlin asked. He reached out a hand and touched a jar.

“I stumbled in here four or five years ago, been coming here every year since then. It kind of makes me feel...” he waved his hands in the air looking for the right word.

“I know,” and it was Merlin who said it this time.

Selvena rolled a small table out from the back room. She went back and brought three wooden folding chairs out too and set them in a triangle around the circular table. She disappeared into the back room once more only to come out holding a tray with a pot of tea, three teacups and a little jar of dark golden honey. She set the tray in the middle of the table and stepped back. With her hand on her hips she surveyed the arrangement. With a nod at the table, she looked over to Arthur and Merlin and raised an eyebrow.

“You come or stand there?”

Arthur wondered if this was how mothers acted. They took their seats and only then did Selvena sit down. The teapot and the teacups matched in a cerulean colour and they were covered in black elaborate symbols. Selvena poured the hot tea into all three teacups and spooned a bit of honey into each.

“Oolong tea,” she explained, “and lavender honey.” She held the jar of honey out to Arthur. “Smell.”

Arthur held the jar under his nose, he had never heard of lavender honey before. He inhaled and smelled the silken sweetness of the lavender pollen and it was luxurious. He held the jar out to Merlin who leaned in to smell. The suggestion of a smile appeared on his face.

“It smells just like the lavender my mother used to grow in her gardens,” Merlin said. Arthur’s heart twinged. He missed Hunith and her gentle ways. He remembered going out to sit in her flower garden when he had a bad day and how the scents of all the flowers together were his balm.

Selvena reached out and placed one of the teacups in front of Merlin. She looked at him with wise eyes and gently patted the back of his hand. Merlin half smiled at her and took the cup between his hands. Arthur wasn’t watching Merlin though, he was looking at Selvena. When she’d touched Merlin a strange look had come across her face.

“Oh,” she exhaled. Her face softened. She looked at them both with gentle eyes. “He your piece,” she said to Arthur.

Merlin looked to Arthur with a look that was probably a question but Arthur wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were frozen on Selvena. He had a horrifying suspicion that he knew what she was going to say.

“I think you might be mistaken,” Arthur cut in before Selvena could say anything more. Merlin was looking between them, waiting for someone to explain to him. Arthur refused to meet his gaze.

Selvena made a sound of annoyance. “I not mistaken. I feel it.”

“Um, I’m a little lost, what’s going on?”

Arthur still wouldn’t look at Merlin which meant that he saw Selvena frown at the two of them. Before Arthur could react she grabbed one of their hands in hers and closed her eyes.

Merlin bowed his head as if he believed they were going to start praying. Maybe he did. It seemed like the most logical explanation.

Arthur sat tense and Merlin shifted. Selvena’s eyes snapped open and she glared at them in annoyance before she let go of their hands and started ranting in another language. She punctuated whatever she was saying by waving her hands around in the air. Arthur snuck a glance at Merlin. Merlin was watching Selvena in slack-jaw surprise. Arthur would have laughed if he had any air left in him.

When Selvena finally stopped gesturing and having her own conversation, she crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “You both fools. Blind fools,” she added with a jerk of her chin. “You wake up and see or you have silver hair and too late.”

“Arthur, I’m a little confused.”

He looked at Merlin for a nanosecond. If he just said it now maybe he could finally put this to rest. If he just told Merlin what was the worst that could happen? Arthur almost laughed because that thought wasn’t reassuring at all.

He looked back at Selvena. He wondered how he must have looked because her sharp eyes smoothed into kind ones when she saw his face. She nodded her head encouragingly.

“Now,” she said.

How was she doing this? His throat was so dry he wasn’t sure if he had the ability to grow the words he wanted to use. He swallowed but that didn’t seem to help because it pushed the words farther down. They were nearing his stomach now, if he didn’t do something soon the words and his resolve would be eaten by the acid in his stomach. He exhaled sharply and the words floated back up.

“I like you.”

God, he sounded like he was ten, Arthur thought to himself. He could barely hear his thoughts over the roar of the blood gushing through his veins. Something ran across Merlin’s eyes but it was gone before Arthur could catch it. Merlin looked at him flabbergasted.

“Uh, well I would hope after all these years you’re not just putting up with me.” Merlin smiled but there was something false about it.

Arthur wet his tongue on the roof of his mouth and he was pretty sure he was having a heart attack. No human should have a heart rate this fast, Arthur thought. Good thing Merlin was a doctor. Arthur almost laughed, really he was straddling a fine line between scared crapless and giddy teenager.

He looked at Merlin and he almost lost his nerve. He reached out and snagged his nerve between his clenched hand and brought it, kicking and screaming, back to where it needed to be.

“ Merlin, I like you a little bit more than that.” He laughed because he was in the middle of it, there was no going back now. “That’s a lie; I like you a whole lot more than that. Like with a capital L,” he swallowed and said in a quieter voice, “maybe love with capital everything because I forgot the caps lock on.”

Merlin’s look of amusement slid of his face and splattered all over his shoes. He stared at Arthur expressionlessly and Arthur wasn’t even sure if Merlin was still breathing. He waited for what seemed like years but Merlin just stared at him. Arthur leaned forward to say something, he wasn’t really sure _what_ , but he didn’t need to say anything because the motion alone broke the spell.

Merlin stumbled to his feet so fast that the wooden fold out chair wobbled. He looked at Arthur and there were so many emotions sitting in his eyes that it was hard to pin point just one.

“I – I have to go." Merlin turned around and quickly walked out of the hut. The light from when Merlin pushed back the fabric at the entrance blinded him for a second. The fabric whooshed back into place and Arthur was on his feet to go after Merlin in the next moment.

A hand closed around his shoulder and held him back. “Let him,” Selvena said. “Even wise man needs time to see truth.”

Arthur slowly walked out of the hut because he didn’t know what else to do. His sleeve cried red tears because he had been naive enough to stitch his heart there. Now he was left with a dripping mess and it stained his pants red, his shoes red and his thoughts blue. He leaked drops of blood like breadcrumbs from a fairytale as he walked home, except in this case Arthur knew that there wouldn’t be anyone following them. He went home and sat on the kitchen table with a bowl under his hand to catch the blood that was steadily rolling down his hand and off the tips of his fingers. Arthur didn’t need it staining his floor red, he didn’t want that permanent reminder. So as his stupidity plunked into the bowl drop by drop he took a pair of blunt scissors and cut the threads that stitched his heart in place – threads that were once gold from hope were now rusty brown.

Arthur shoved his heart back where it should have been the whole time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for reading and kudosing. I love reading your little comments too! One more chapter left guys!


	5. Things We Only Dream

Merlin sat in his car and watched the rain cascade down the front windshield.  The rain beat down on the roof of his car with a vengeance and his mind was filled with the roar of the sound.  He looked across the street to the blurred light coming from one of the windows.  Merlin let out a sigh and shoved his head back into the headrest and stared up at the ceiling.  He let out a sharp breath and thought back to what Arthur had said.

_“Merlin, I like you a little bit more than that.  That’s a lie; I like you a whole lot more than that.  Like with a capital L, maybe love with capital everything because I forgot the caps lock on.”_

He banged his head against the headrest a couple times before he turned his head to look at the light shining behind the curtains.  He told himself that he was only waiting for the rain to let up, that as soon as it stopped pouring he’d go up and knock on the door.  He’d been telling himself that for the past two hours, enough time for the car to cool down enough for him to see his breath illuminated by the old-style streetlamp he’d parked underneath. 

He couldn’t help thinking that once he got out and knocked on the door he was walking into a territory that he didn’t know how to navigate. 

Merlin thought of Arthur’s face, completely stripped bare after he’d told Merlin of his feelings.  The hurt that had pierced his face when Merlin had hastily pushed himself away from the table, away from Arthur, so he could get away, so he could breathe without feeling like someone had shoved an entire apple down his throat.

He swallowed.  His eyes traced the shadow of a figure that moved behind the curtain.  Merlin took a deep breath and stepped out of the car.  He ran across the street as the rain pelted his hair and rolled down his coat.  He climbed the steps that led to the front door of the house and raised his hand to knock.  His hand hovered mere inches away from the yellow door as the rain ran down every inch of him.  He rapped his knuckles on the door twice and the sound was heavy in the silence.  He wished he could take it back, the sound was too sharp.  It sounded like a demand.

Merlin shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to slow his heart.  He’d walked through this door so many times, never had knocking been so terrifying.  Now, he stood on the welcome mat and wondered if he indeed was welcome. 

Merlin knocked again, a bit softer this time.  “Come on Arthur, I know you’re in, I saw you walk by the window,” he said to the door.  “Please,” he continued as his voice fell, “please Arthur, I need to talk to you.”

He heard the lock click and the door opened slowly. 

Arthur stood there, clad in a sweater and jeans, holding onto the doorknob as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep the door open for much longer.  Merlin felt some of the warmth escape out of the house as it brushed past him.  He looked at Arthur who tiredly looked back at him, not quite meeting his eyes and instead hovering on a spot above Merlin’s right shoulder. 

“What do you want Merlin?”  Arthur didn’t invite him inside and Merlin didn’t ask.

Merlin wanted to pause the moment until he got his heart under control, until he caught all the thoughts that threatened to run away under Arthur’s tired, apathetic gaze. 

“I want to – I _need_ to talk to you,” he repeated. 

Arthur frowned and rubbed at his face with both hands.  He took a breath and dragged his hands slowly down his face before he looked at Merlin, really looked at him this time. 

“Can we not?  I don’t want to do this Merlin, not with you.  I have a brilliant idea, how about we forget what I said,” Arthur waved a dismissive hand, “blame it on the incense burning in the hut.”

Merlin stood in the cold as the rain flattened his hair to his head and the clothes to his back and he felt his hope tear apart.  He felt the pieces drop to the floor and turn into a soggy mess as the rain had its way with them.  Something inside him stiffened with resolve at the sight of his drowning hope.  He crouched down and peeled off all the pieces and laid them on the palm of his hand.  When he straightened up his hands fisted around the pieces and it started to reshape. 

Merlin looked Arthur squarely in the eyes.  “I don’t want to.” 

Arthur gave a weary sigh.  “Look Merlin –“

“No,” Merlin interrupted.  “You’ve said your bit already.  Just let me say something.”

Merlin’s heart sped up when Arthur didn’t say anything and Merlin knew he had his attention.  He breathed past the throbbing pump and tried to recapture the words he wanted to use.  It was so much easier when he’d practiced saying the words to his steering wheel.  Now he couldn’t think of two words to rub together.

“I shouldn’t have run.  I’m sorry,” Merlin said quietly.  “I don’t know why I did.”

Arthur snorted darkly and crossed his arms across his chest.  “I think it’s pretty obvious, wouldn’t you?  You ran away Merlin, I got the message loud and clear.”

“You don’t understand,” Merlin jumped in.

“You turned and left,” Arthur said loudly, “I don’t think we need to have a discussion to figure out what that means.”

Merlin shook his head.  “No, you don’t understand, I have to tell you something.”

“Fine,” Arthur snapped and reached out a hand to clutch the door.  “You want to tell me something?  Fine, then tell me why you left.  Tell me why you got up and left, like I didn’t even warrant an explanation.”

“Because,” Merlin started and fell short.

“Becuase?  Becuase why?  Just say it.  Just say it so we can lay this to rest and go back to being the friends we’ve always been.  So just tell me.  Because why?” Arthur goaded.

“Because I was scared,” Merlin shouted.  Arthur’s face smoothed.  They stood there, breathing heavily, looking at each other.  “Because I was scared,” Merlin whispered.

“Because I was an idiot and I didn’t know what to do when the one thing I wanted the most, the one thing I’d wanted for the longest time, was actually coming true.  Because something in your eyes, your face, made me jump away because there was too much honesty.”

Merlin looked at Arthur through his wet lashes.  “Because I’m a coward and I’ve been driving around ever since I ran out until I got dangerously low on gas and parked outside your house, willing myself for the last two hours to knock on your door,” he said in a rush.

He swallowed thickly and brushed his hands over his face, swiping away some of the rain.  Arthur stood stunned in the doorway, his hand forgotten on the door.

“Why?” Arthur asked so quietly that Merlin wondered if he even knew that he asked.  Arthur seemed to come back into himself and he looked at Merlin in confusion.  “You always look away when you catch me looking at you.”      

“You must know.”  Merlin shook his head as he looked down and let out a quick breath.  When he looked up at Arthur he smiled although the edges wobbled.  “You must know, that at night I would take out the memories of all the times you looked at me with softened eyes, all those times you’d throw your head back in pure abandon as you’d laugh, the slight brushes of your fingers on my arm as you passed me by – Arthur, I would take all of those memories and mold them into something beautiful.  It was something I only let myself picture for a couple minutes before I fell asleep because I knew it was impossible.”  He closed his eyes and squeezed them tight.  “But it was too beautiful to be left to collect dust.”  A muscle in Merlin’s cheek trembled.

Arthur stared at Merlin, speechless.  Merlin’s heart was beating so fast he was pretty sure he was going to throw up. 

“So,” Merlin smiled weakly at Arthur, “to conclude,” he laughed a short nervous laugh but felt the knot in his throat loosen when he saw Arthur’s lips twitch into an involuntary smile, “I’ve been in love with my best friend for as long as I can remember, probably even before.”

Merlin waited for Arthur’s reaction but he stood frozen.  Arthur blinked once, twice, then burst out laughing.  He was laughing so hard that he had to use the hand on the door to keep himself upright.  Merlin watched him, shivering from his wet clothes, not exactly sure what to make from Arthur’s reaction.  In all his dreams where he declared his love for Arthur none of the scenarios had Arthur laughing until he was crying. 

Arthur straightened up and rubbed his face, still laughing a little to himself.  He said something but Merlin couldn’t hear because of Arthur’s hands in front of his mouth. 

“All this time,” Arthur said as his laughter faded away.  Arthur raised his hands and shook them in the air.  “This whole damn time,” Arthur said to the ceiling.  Merlin wasn’t exactly sure whom Arthur was talking with and was strangely tempted to just stick his head inside to make sure Arthur didn’t have some weird tenant who liked to suction himself to the ceiling. 

A couple residual laughs caught hold of Arthur as he looked at Merlin.  “The two idiots who’d been in love with each other for twelve years and didn’t realize it until some weird gypsy woman gave them the stink eye.  Reads like one of those corny books Guinevere likes to read, don’t it?”

Hearing Arthur say it again made Merlin’s breath get stuck somewhere along the way.  Arthur must have noticed because the laughter rolled off his face and he took a step closer to Merlin.  He was standing on the metal doorstep, the wind tugged at his sweater and the rain from the doorframe dripped onto him.  He didn’t step back though. 

“I meant it, you know,” he murmured.  He was close enough for Merlin to get tangled in his eyelashes.  This was everything Merlin had ever dreamed and more because the cold and the rain made it more real.

“I did too,” he whispered.  Merlin watched Arthur close his eyes.  He was close enough to see the faint web of capillaries on Arthur’s eyelids. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t know.”  Arthur smiled gently.  “All those times you caught me looking at you.  I figured you knew because you always looked away.”  Arthur opened his eyes to look at Merlin.

Merlin shook his head lightly.  “I didn’t.  I looked away because it was too much, I didn’t want to build it up in my head and, you know...”

Arthur smiled because Merlin wasn’t looking away.  “Yeah.”

Merlin opened his mouth to say something but the thought got sucked away when Arthur stepped off the metal doorstep towards Merlin.  The rain was slowly starting to seep into Arthur’s clothes as well but he didn’t seem to care.  Arthur reached out a tentative hand and took one of Merlin’s hands. 

Arthur frowned.  “Jesus you’re cold.”  Arthur’s hand squeezed around his own and his numb fingers twitched at the warmth.  From where he stood, Merlin could feel the warmth radiating from Arthur and he wanted nothing more than to close the last foot of distance between them. 

“Let’s get you warmed up,” Arthur said and took a step back towards the door.  Merlin frowned and before Arthur could say anything he pulled Arthur back towards him with the hands that were still enjoined.  Arthur stumbled into him and Merlin reached up with his other hand and placed it on Arthur’s cheek to steady him.  He crossed the space between them until he was kissing Arthur and he was willing his numb lips to move.  After a surprised moment Arthur’s hand went around to Merlin back and he pulled Merlin even closer.  Merlin’s fingers brushed through Arthur’s hair and he could feel the heat of their breaths.  When they broke apart for a proper breath Arthur wore a dazed expression.

“I’ve waited twelve years for that.  Twelve years.  You’re crazy if you thought I was going to wait another minute.” 

Arthur smiled a smile so wide that Merlin was almost positive he could count all of Arthur’s teeth.   The smile slowly ebbed.  “You’re not going to run anymore, are you?”

Merlin shook his head.  “No.  Are you the running sort?”

“You git,” Arthur rolled his eyes, “I _live_ here.  I’m not going anywhere.”  He reached out a hand and grabbed Merlin’s soggy coat and pulled him in through the door.  “And neither are you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter guys, I hope you like it! Thank you to all of you who've read and commented; you're all so kind. ^.^


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